


Unraveling At The Seams

by AkumaStrife



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkumaStrife/pseuds/AkumaStrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian shouldn’t even have come here, but he couldn’t go back to the manor, not with Dick’s damn concern and fussing. And Drake. Jason seemed logical when he had no capability for real thinking, probably knows what this infernal drug is and how to make it go away. </p><p>Although, glorified for its early symptoms, the pollen is still very much a drug, and the fall is always worse than the climb. Jason knows this, and once Damian is well enough to return to the Manor, he has some ass-kicking to do on his behalf. But until then....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unraveling

**Author's Note:**

> This trope is like a rite of passage, yeah?
> 
> This is really quite filthy, fyi.

His vision goes blurry and his lungs are so tight that he’s forgotten what it’s like to really breathe. He’s tight as a zip line, full of something like electricity and white sparks and stars. But he keeps running, the cold wind easing the heat rolling through him, scared that if he stops it’ll consume him. Keeps moving quick across dark, dirty rooftops in the hopes that he can outrun it. But he’s not in his right mind, not thinking right, because there’s no outrunning something that’s already inside him, sinking claws and fangs into his brainmusclesbones, turns them to liquid.

He vaults across the open air and lands on the fire escape clumsily, can’t even think straight to chastise himself because his foot’s already through the glass, knocking out the rest so he can crawl in.

“What the fuck!" 

Damian doesn’t answer because his chest heaves, eyes fluttering, lightheaded with all this _want and need and something he’s not completely familiar with, crawling over his arms and up his neck and down between his legs, and he doesn’t know what to do with it all._

There’s a hand suddenly on his shoulder and he bites back a whimper, the bare skin sending ripples of heat along his shoulder even beneath cloth, and jerks away before he does something pathetic and desperate and _please god help me make it stop or ease this burning I don’t know which._ He stumbles away, trying to put distance between him and Jason because he doesn’t even know why he’s here and he can feel the leer trained on his back.

“You smell like fruit and flowers.”

_Heknowsheknowsheknowsheknowsheknows_

He feels like he’s covered in bees and his whole body is thrumming, screaming at him; his hands shaking violently as he catches himself on the edge of a table and distantly hears the crash of things he’s knocked off the edge.

“Poor Babybat. This must be your first time getting hit by Ivy’s Sex Pollen.”

“Shut up!” he yells and Jason is laughing, a deep sound that rolls over him and he realizes belatedly his hands have unclipped his cape and are tugging at his attaché belt, yanks them away like they are not his, offended and confused.

“Well, it’s about time honestly.”

He shouldn’t even have come here, but he couldn’t go back to the manor, not with Dick’s damn concern and fussing, and _Drake._ Jason seemed logical when he had no capability for real thinking, probably knows what this _infernal_ drug is and how to make it go away.

There’s those hands on his arms again; Jason helping unclip buckles, Jason breathing hot against his ear, Jason peeling away his domino mask, Jason rubbing this thigh, until the heavy thud of the belt on the floor shakes Damian out of his heated stupor. He pushes Jason away, pushes past him to Jason’s bedroom. Maybe there he can just take care of this by himself. 

“Let me help, Kitten. After all, what are big brothers for?” Jason is saying smugly, but it sounds warped in Damian’s ears, muted like he’s underwater. “I can see how bad it hurts, and it’s only gonna get worse. The best antidote is a warm hand around your cock.” 

Damian chokes back a moan, can feel the fire rushing along his skin at Jason’s words, slams the bedroom door shut because he doesn’t trust Jason and he doesn’t trust himself and the world tilts as his dick throbs insistently. He itches and can’t quit squirming, spandex rubbing his sensitive skin raw, just needs to get his clothes off like an hour ago. 

He doesn’t notice the dirty room around the single mattress pushed up against one wall, just falls into it and gasps high and needy. His fingers fumble in the race to get the robin outfit off, ends up tripping one of his own safety wires and the stinging shock to his fingers make his teeth clack it hurts so bad. But it’s quick pain, searing heat so quick that it sets his nerves on fire and makes him whine in want. Makes his fingers fly faster and clumsier. 

And then he finally gets his hands around himself and he makes a sound he didn’t even know he could and his hips jerk up as his toes begin to cramp up at how tightly he’s curling them. But Jason’s in the door way, watching him with obvious appreciation. 

“Get out,” Damian hisses, but can’t seem to stop his hands; can’t stop one from jerking himself off and the other scratching at the inside of his thigh because _it’s not enough and he’s shaking and trembling and panting as his muscles contract in frustration._

“Oh c’mon, you’re wound so tight,” Jason says as he stalks closer, grin bright through the darkness. Damian is powerless to disagree as his whole body jerks when Jason shifts up the mattress over him, hips canting up into his hand like an invitation and Jason’s grin splits wide and sharp. “I’ll take real good care of you, baby. I know what you want. Fuck you real good.” 

There’s hands on him, skin on skin, tacky with sweat and some weird textured substance his skin’s been secreting ever since he stumbled into Jason’s apartment; and _holy shit_ he barely realizes how he gasps and begs for it, chewing on his bottom lip and tossing his head, wants those hands all over him spreading sharp sparks like comets. 

_Fuck me please please please just fuck me Jason get on with it._ Grabbing Jason’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around him anyway he can and rolling his aching dick up into his stomach for the friction _because it hurts so fucking bad_ and Jason groans, mumbles how he sounds like a fucking slut for him and how hot it is and Damian can barely think straight anymore, Jason biting through his bottom lip until iron floods his mouth and there’s fingers slicking their way inside his mouth. Strings of saliva and blood coat Jason’s fingers and he’s pulling his hand away, chuckling at how Damian whines and then keens because they’re pushing between his ass and he tries to wiggle down into them. It burns and almost tears and he’s gasping, pushing into them, his whole body trembling and protesting and _please please please Jason it’s not enough._

Two fingers working him open. Three. Crooks them. Damian’s seeing stars. _Finally finally finally._ He twists his hands in his own hair, eyes shut tightly in overwhelming frustration and sensation, sobbing as those thick fingers thrust in and out of him quick and ruthless. It’s just want he needs, so perfect, thighs shaking as a litany of pleas and foreign curse words tumble from his mouth. 

“Pretty little bird,” Jason coos, and it sounds so fucking filthy rolling off his tongue with four fingers now up to the knuckles in his ass. 

Damian writhes, doesn’t have any real control over his own body anymore, _hurry the fuck up Jason I’m going to die._

And Jason’s mouth is all over him. Kissing up his thighs, biting hard at his hips, as his fingers hook sharp and Jason licks at his quivering abdomen. Damian’s skin tastes overly sweet, makes his tongue a little thick with the traces of pollen. He only just gets his other hand wrapped around Damian’s dick before his coming with a wrecked sob, cheeks wet, hips jerking and his entire being swept away with a layer of something like static electricity like sticky sweet soda and pop rocks and Jason works him through it, jabs at his prostate just to watch him squirm and his face screw up around the painful pleasure that fucks up his sense of time.   _Yeah that’s it baby feels good doesn’t it? I’m gonna make you feel a lot better don’t worry gonna fuck you hard and thorough until all the pollen’s gone and you’re just a cold husk._

_Dickiebird wouldn’t be able to satisfy you like I will._  

Jason’s impressed with the potency of the dose, because Damian’s erection doesn’t even waver, just stays hard and raw and needy. He pulls his fingers free, groans at the way Damian’s ass clamps down frantically in the effort to keep him inside, Damian whining at the empty feeling that leaves him too fucking hot and like the need is going to crawl up his throat and choke him. 

Jason tugs his clothes off and hums deep in his throat, because Damian’s being driven completely insane and is already pushing his own fingers into his stretched hole, trying to feel full again, trying to elevate that painful ache. Shaking because he just got off but it’s barely made a dent and his pupils are blown so wide. _Come on Jason fuck me it’s not enough stop making me beg dammit I can take it._  

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby.” Because Damian’s reactions to the pollen scream virgin and he’s not ashamed to admit that it makes him hard in his jeans to know that he’s getting the kid first. That he’s gonna be the one to hold that little, lithe body down and wrench the most sinful sounds from him, push his legs open and fuck him to honest tears.


	2. Falling

Jason takes him over and over. Relishing in the sensation of new muscle and soft skin beneath his hands. Drinks in the needy cries and moans he never thought he’d hear Damian utter. Gets off on the way Damian blossoms for him, opens up and gives it all to him. 

He sucks dark marks into the boy’s skin, tastes him wherever he wants just because he can and Damian _loves it_. Jason’s mouth on his skin makes him shake and almost grin around his panting, never before feeling as good as he does in Jason’s control. Never before felt so much like he was flying and on fire, so consumed by pleasure. 

Jason loses count of how many times Damian comes after a dozen, just continues to fuck him until he literally cannot stay awake. Stimulates and pleasures him until Damian is incoherent and trembling with an empty sensation that he doesn’t exactly like. Boneless and vulnerable as if his skin’s been stripped away. And suddenly, as the lust ebbs, he’s not feeling so good anymore. 

Damian crashes, still wrapped around Jason, still impaled on Jason’s cock. 

And when Damian wakes up hours later screaming, Jason is there. 

He let’s Damian cling to him with sharp nails and a bruising grip. Doesn’t hold him, not yet, not when he knows Damian’s skin feels as though it’s literally burning up from the inside out and yet so cold that he might never get warm again; so oversensitive that a slightly off touch will make him feel like it’s being peeling off. 

Because no one talks about the darker side of Ivy’s pollen. No one talks about what it _really_ does. 

The pollen is still a drug, still an incredibly harmful substance that alters the body’s senses all at once in horrific amounts. It just so happens that the only known cure is the physical contact and endorphins attributed to sex. 

When the pollen hits the bloodstream it starts by fucking with the victim’s sense of touch. Makes them so sensitive a breeze seems to blister and they sweat and burn not unlike an animal in heat. Releases so many endorphins that the body literally doesn’t know what to do with them, and thus get mistaken for other things. Poor judgment and memory impairment and arousal intense enough it seems like a dying need. 

And in a sense it is, because usually that’s when the victim finds someone to ease the ache, someone to touch them all over and fuck them into unconscious bliss. But to those unfortunate enough to not receive that? Or the dose high enough? 

The pollen moves on to the victim’s hearing, and then quickly escalates to invade their vision. Makes them hear sounds that aren’t there, and voices from haunted pasts. It hooks its claws into the victim’s memory and yanks up everything that makes them go mad. They begin seeing nightmares and things that send them spiraling into panic and fear unlike they’ve ever known. They feel like they’re dying, raked over coals and dry ice as they’re sent to hell and back. 

A small part of the original compound came from something in Scarecrow’s cache, so it’s no wonder that the withdrawal takes such a toll. 

Jason had hoped that if he worked quickly enough he’d be able to flush it out of Damian’s system all at once. But the dose must have been too much for someone still so small; someone who’s never had it in their system before. 

Damian screams and sobs and writhes in pain, clings to him with enough force that Jason will feel it for days. Begs him to make it stop, to make it stop ripping at his insides. Damian can see colors that don’t exist and every little shift of the smallest material, the room spinning and contorting, shadowy shapes peeling away from the walls with vicious fangs and reaching hands. It hurts. Everything hurts. Feels like he can’t close his eyes even though they’ve dried out and his stomach rolls with overwhelming nausea, like he’s going to hurl, like everything would right itself if he _could_ throw up, but it won’t come and he twists against Jason, nails dug deep into his shoulders as he tries to center himself.  

So Jason holds him close, holds him down, and fucks him through it. Does all he can to distract him, and feels some of the tightness leave his chest when Damian begins moaning in something other than pain, starts rocking _into_ Jason’s movements, rather than away from the walls that bleed terrifying shadows. 

Because sex is the only thing that stops the pollen from destroying its victim. Though glorified for its early symptoms, it’s still very much a drug, and the fall is always worse than the climb. Quitting cold turkey is brutally the same no matter the substance. 

Jason praises him, talks to him like jailbait in some bad porno if only for the fact that it makes Damian’s pupils shrink enough that they’re not stretched over the entire iris; helps Damian focus on his voice and the present. Murmurs filthy things to shock Damian’s lungs into working again. _That’s right baby you can take it you like it rough like this don’t you. You’re fucking begging for it and it’s so hot how much you just want to be fucking devoured want to muddy up all that inexperience and innocence you have. Shit you’re beautiful like this all wrecked and needy beneath me I want you like this forever._  

Runs his hands over Damian’s clammy skin continuously because he knows how it eases the burn, how the touch keeps the madness at bay. And for the first time that night Jason presses his lips to Damian’s, knows that saliva is like a soothing agent not unlike lotion on a sunburn, and it quiets Damian’s cries into something softer and just this side of deliciously wrecked; something more wanting and insatiable. Like before. Before the dregs of the pollen began its ravaging.

 _Shhh yeah that’s right c’mon baby you’re fine I promise I know it hurts baby I know it hurts but you’re doing so good it’s almost over c’mon you can get through this._  

Damian, still half out of his mind, doesn’t fight him. Just whines softly and pushes into it, wraps his arms around him without cutting gouges in his back and opens his mouth easily for Jason. 

And yeah, Jason’s going to murder Dick for letting Damian get this much of the stuff in his system without any proper training. 


	3. Retribution

It’s two days before Damian is coherent enough to leave. His skin ashen and eyes bloodshot, his legs trembling as they try to support him. But then….that isn’t exactly the pollen’s fault, and Jason lets himself feel smug for a moment as he watches Damian struggle to pull on a pair of his old jeans that have shrunk enough from too many washes. Knows that he’s the one who did that; that he was the one to wreck the kid completely and have him panting his name. 

In the end, though, Damian’s too weak to do a damn thing on his own, so Jason sticks him on the back of his motorcycle and delivers him to the Wayne Manor himself. Pushes Damian into Alfred’s concerned hands and snaps, “You better do everything Alfred says, you hear me? Or else I’ll be back and you’ll learn how little bedside manner I have.”

Alfred steers the boy away before he has time to formulate a comeback, mouth gaping at being ordered around as such. He seems to have forgotten the 24 hour period in which he was a sobbing mess in Jason’s arms willing to do whatever Jason wanted. It doesn’t exactly give him an excuse to argue now. 

With Damian in good hands, Jason tosses his helmet to the ground and moves through the manor with furious purpose. Dick is easy to find, predictably in Bruce’s old study, and he barely has the chance to rise to his feet before he’s reeling with the force of Jason’s right hook. He moves in quick before Dick can get his bearings and shoves him up against the wall hard enough that his head cracks against the plaster, forearm slammed into his windpipe to hold him still. 

“You selfish bastard! How fucking reckless and irresponsible can you possibly _be?”_

Dick squirms in his hold, trying to find an angle in which to speak easily. “Damian is capable. I had faith he could handle it, especially if he was with one of us.” 

Jason makes a frustrated sound, like he can’t fucking believe it, and jabs his arm in harder. “Do you know how much of that stuff was in his system? At least 5,000 Units! Which is a hell of a lot for a _fucking kid_ who’s never been exposed to it! You seem to forget that not everyone takes the pollen for _fun_.” He spits that comment, uses it like a weapon to dig under Dick’s skin. Tries to make him understand how fucking serious this is, that’s not just some pissing contest between them, it’s a _human life_. 

“What did you do when you got hit with it? Come back here and use your precious Timmy? Drag him into your sick little games? Or hell, did it even affect you at all? Bet you’ve built up such a tolerance that 5,000 U’s is _nothing.”_  

Dick narrows his eyes, practically seething. “And yet you took advantage of him and his condition. How does that make you any better than me?” 

“He _came_ to me, because for some reason he thought I could help him better than you. And I’m starting to see why. Yeah, I fucked the kid thirty ways from Sunday. I’m not ashamed to admit it, and I’m sure as hell not gonna deny how much I enjoyed the little brat. But you know better than anyone that someone was gonna have to do it, and I’m starting to think you’re 100% less worried about _your partner_ , and 110% more upset that it wasn’t you doing the fucking.” 

When Dick doesn’t answer Jason shakes him hard and slams him against the wall again.  

“Jesus Christ, Dick, could you pull your head out of your ass for ten seconds and stop being so fucking petty? The kid was running a fever of 104 during the withdrawals! I had to do everything I could so the blood would keep pumping to his heart, he was hallucinating and two seconds away from going into cardiac arrest—are you hearing me?” 

To his credit, Dick finally starts to look remorseful. Like the gravity of the situation is finally dawning on him. 

Jason gives him another hard shove before letting go and backing away. “This isn’t a game anymore. You’re not that kid flipping around in short pants and making puns. You’re Batman and he has a hell of a lot of responsibility. At least Bruce _tried_ to come save me. You couldn’t get passed your jealousy to even _call.”_

“I never asked for the mantle!” 

Dick’s barely finishes the statement before Jason’s fist connects with his face again, blood gushing from his broken nose as Jason floors him with a jab to his kidney. Jason crouches down to Dick’s level and fixes him with the best imitation of the Bat Stare Dick’s ever seen. 

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t ask to get beaten to death either, but it comes with the job. We all have to man up and take responsibility for the things thrust upon us, even though we don’t like it.” 

He straightens and shakes out his hand, leaving the room without a backwards glance. 

“Is he going to be okay? Damian, I mean.” 

Jason stops and turns, not surprised to see Tim hovering outside the study. He regards him with a look and, instead of answering, asks, “Would you have done it? If he’d come to you instead?” 

Tim scoffs. “He’d never come for my help, not in a million years.” Then his expression falters, changes into something more sincere, chin held rigid and high. “But yes, of course I would’ve.” 

Jason chuckles and pats him roughly on the shoulder before continuing down the hall. “You’re a good kid, Tim. Try not to fight with him for a bit.”

 

 

By the time he makes it back to the garage, Damian is standing beside his motorcycle, already looking a bit healthier. The color’s coming back into his skin and he looks ten times more alert than he has in the past three days. 

“Thought I told you to stay with Alfred?” 

Damian tilts his head and narrows his eyes, as if trying to figure something out. After a moment he seems to give up analyzing Jason in favor of tossing him a small bag. “Pennyworth told me to give this to you.” 

Jason shoots him a look before unzipping it, finding a good wad of cash and a prepaid phone. He laughs and turns the phone over in his hands a few times, then pops the back off and extracts the tracking device, flicking it back in the boy’s direction. 

“Good ol’ Alfie, always looking after his boys.” 

And yet Damian has yet to leave, has yet to look away from his face with something like new found respect and confusion. Opens his mouth to say something before snapping it closed and watching him intently. 

“I don’t need a sidekick, so run along.” 

Damian’s expression turns haughty instantly and he cocks an eyebrow. “Perhaps not, but it’s come to my attention that my mentor is lacking, and I require nothing but the best.  I… do not find your methods of justice all that detestable as the others do, and you could benefit from a second set of eyes and hands.” 

Jason just smirks and shoves his helmet on, swinging his leg over his bike as it roars to life. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed <3 I always appreciate comments


End file.
